


Orcish Prurience

by Hoodoo



Series: Orcish Inamorato [2]
Category: Orcs - Fandom, Original Work, exophilia - Fandom, teratophilia - Fandom
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cock Piercing, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Fucking, Orcish traditions, Size Difference, Skyrim References, Sweet/Hot, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 14:55:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18054665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoodoo/pseuds/Hoodoo
Summary: Your Orc boyfriend has been gone a month; tonight's a night for reconnection.





	Orcish Prurience

People thought Orcs were green. Technically that was true, you supposed, and what you’d thought before you’d agreed to be courted by Grar gro-Dushnikh.

Since then, after the gifts of hunted animals and exquisitely sharp knives that were too small for his grip but fit yours just fine, after moving into his small wooden cabin out in the middle of the forest, your courtship had become physical, and you’d learned that there was a wide variation of color on an Orc. The palms of Grar’s hands were paler than the tops. You’d discovered darker pigment on the back of his neck, running down his spine. Over his shoulders spread a subtle mottling of greens.

You knew he’d be larger than any other man you would have shared a bed with, but you hadn’t realized the coloration on his cock was going to be so pretty.

Heavy and thick, his cock was dappled too, but darker. A single bar of gold had been pierced just under the head. Your hand looked bleached stroking it, but you liked the contrast. You liked the pink of your tongue against it too, what little of of it you could see looking down your own nose as you licked his shaft. You licked to tease, because it was never enough for him.

As he groaned at the tiny amount of stimulation you were giving him, you pulled the head of his cock into your mouth and used both hands to stroke him. The fine skin shifted under your movements; Grar’s foreskin slipped up and back and although you kept your mouth around him, you used the tip of your tongue to make circles to contrast your hands’ motion. The sounds he made became deeper, more urgent, and you broke the seal of your lips as you smiled.

His large hand grasped the side of your head.

You lifted your eyes to his, which looked ebony in the firelight, and you continued to lick the sensitive bundle of pierced nerves under the head of his cock even as he growled, 

“Do human men appreciate such torment?”

You shrugged a shoulder. “I’m an innocent maiden. I have no idea what men may or may not like.”

Grar laughed aloud. “An innocent maiden with a mouth sweeter than a whore’s!”

You didn’t move your lips away from his cock as you asked haughtily, “Have none of your other conquests lavished attention on you with their mouths? Did they only open their legs for you, desperate for this monster of a cock?” 

You ended your questions by pulling him back into your mouth, sucking hard for a moment. 

His fingers tightened in your hair, but not hard enough to hurt. It was a long-standing joking exchange between the two of you that you’d both had multiple lovers, when in reality neither of you had laid with anyone before. You weren’t conventionally pretty for a human; he wasn’t conventionally brutish for an Orc.

“Are you desperate for it?” Grar asked in a low rumble. 

The heat in your groin was undeniable, and you couldn’t stand to tease any longer. 

“Yes!” you agreed, not caring if it was unseeming. “Grar, please!”

In a movement that was uncannily fast for someone so huge, Grar sat up and snatched at you, flipping you up beside him on the furs. You gasped and giggled as you landed on your back, and he leaned over you. His tusks made kissing not an easy task, so you kissed under his jaw instead, using softer but similar techniques that you had on his cock: licking and sucking. In return, he pressed his forehead into yours before nuzzling into your hair. 

You continued to stroke him as best you were able in this position, and after another moment of panting against your ear Grar shifted the two of you so you were at the edge of the bed, almost too far, and he was on the floor, kneeling between your thighs. 

This was another stark contrast you liked to see: his thick, heavy body against your pale, soft one. Living in the wilds made you strong, but a human was no match for even a half-Orc. Grar, in the prime of his life, was solid mass. He did all the heavy work; you did the delicate. You were a good match, even here in bed. 

Grar looked down on you. As he was partially turned away from the fire, his eyes were still dark and unreadable, but he ran his fingernails down your sides gently, as he’d learned you liked. In this position, with your legs high on his waist, his cock lay heavily on your mons. You could feel the heat from his bollocks further down against you. You lay your hand on top of his cock, pressing its full length against your lower belly and a thrill went through you; it never ceased to amaze you that such an organ could fit inside you. 

But it did, and you loved it.

Grar let you play a moment more. You licked your palm and fingers and coated him with your saliva; you took his large wrist--you couldn’t encircle it with your fingers!--and brought his hand to your mouth to wet two of his fingers. He moved that hand to your pussy and slipped it through your folds, adding to the wetness there. That, and your whine of need, made him grin and he took himself in hand to ease the head of his cock into you. 

“More--” you groaned.

He grunted a bit of a laugh at your request, but didn’t deny you. He rocked forward, dislodging the hold you’d had on him with your legs and filling you completely as gravity helped drop you onto him. 

Your groan became louder, sharper, and he gave you a moment to adjust. The sensation of him inside you was intense but wonderful; and you knew he paused to allow the feeling of your pussy tight around him wash through him too. You spread your legs instead of hooking them around him again. He had the strength to support you.

After a few seconds of panting, the initial burn of adjustment to him faded, leaving only pleasure. Opening your eyes again, you caught his gaze, and that was enough for him to fuck you.

He held your waist so he didn’t inadvertently move you away from his thrusts. If it’d been daylight and you were outside, you’d hoist yourself up on you elbows to see his dark cock plunge in and pull out of you; it was another example of the difference between you that you loved to see. But here in the cabin, the placement of the fire made everything shadowed at your groins. Instead of watching, you simply let the physical sensations overtake you.

Grar’s grunts rivalled your moans. You couldn’t get enough of him; he couldn’t get enough of you. Differences in coloration and size aside, it felt completely right to be filled by him, to share yourself with him. He’d been gone for a month, and it had been too long. 

You reached for him blindly. He took your hint and bent at the waist as you grabbed his shoulders to hold him close. Releasing your waist, he didn’t lay directly atop you; his weight would be too much. He held himself up with his elbows and dipped his head against your neck. He thrust a little faster, pounding into your pussy with a touch more force, and as your voice hitched wordlessly higher his breath came in explosive little pants near your ear. 

You tried to match him, tried to move your hips at least a little, but he was too heavy and your legs were spread too widely around his torso for any leverage. You clenched your pussy as best you could, and Grar moaned as you did. It made you smile that it pleased him. 

Before too long, however, his pace became choppy and discoordinated, signaling he was nearing the pinnacle of his pleasure. You encouraged it, grasping at him so he didn’t stop, moaning, whispering how you wanted him to come inside you--

He did, with a final thrust and a deep-throated groan. The sensations of his pubic bone solid against your clit, of his cock buried deep inside you, pulsing with his climax, and filling you with seed was enough to send you over the edge too. You let the feeling of bliss take you away for a moment as you clutched at him.

Although he’d stopped moving as he came, Grar gently fucked you through the final stages of your orgasm, sending sparks of pleasure through your core. When you were finally able to open your eyes again, he finally stopped. 

With a huff of satisfaction, he pulled back and eased out of you. Unsupported by his bulk, your legs automatically dropped to the floor. A gush of wet from your pussy followed, and you were glad Grar had chosen that particular position; Orc come wasn’t easy to clean out of furs.

He gently ran his tusks and lower lip downward over your belly--the Orcish equivalent of a kiss--and straightened to stoke the fire. You wiped yourself up with clean rags before laying down and watched the interplay of shadow and light on his naked body.

“I have half an elk that will need smoked,” he told you conversationally. “And the hide needs tanned. Do you think it should be a fur, or do you need new shoes? I trapped several foxes and a wolf. That fur will need tanned as well. I’d like to sell them, but the wolf’d make a good lining for a hood--”

You cleared your throat to catch his attention. His looked back at you and you watched his brow furrow.

With slightly trembling hands, you sat up and offered him a heavy bundle that you’d stored out of sight under the bed. It did not clear the confusion from his face, nor did shaking it out to its full size once he’d taken it from you.

“This is . . . this is . . .” He didn’t seem to be able to complete the thought. 

You stood up beside him. The snowy sabre cat pelt he held up the one he’d taken on a Clan hunt. He’d killed the beast with his bare hands, not making any marks on the hide with a weapon. It had been a good kill. The pelt was plush and supple; you’d worked on it tirelessly while he’d been gone. 

You couldn’t stop your fingers from trailing through it while you stood nervously in front of him. 

“I did the best I could,” you said, with a suddenly dry throat. “I was very careful, and scraped it so many times! I didn’t make any holes in the hide, and I was extra cautious to leave the fur intact, then I tanned just the underside, so it’ll be warm. And I worked it so it’ll stay soft, even when it’s wet.”

Grar held the fur without a word, and your worry increased. 

“Do . . . do you like it? Is it right?” you asked in a whisper. 

His eyes flashed as he met your gaze. “Is this a betrothal agreement? Is this fur your acceptance? You’ll have me as a husband?”

You’d done your research and learned some Orcish customs. You’d worked hard on making that pelt the best you could for your future husband; the care you’d taken with it and the quality of the finished product would demonstrate your attention to detail and determination, and would be scrutinized by others in his Clan to conclude if you were proper bride material. Snowy sabre cats weren’t common, so you hoped that it wouldn’t be too showy when he wore it to the next Gathering. 

“Yes,” you replied, trying to keep your voice from shaking. 

The expression on Grar’s face softened, then he dropped the pelt and scooped you into a tight hug, lifting you to be face to face with him. You laughed.

“I am proud you’ll be my wife,” he told you, “and I will make you proud I am your husband!”

You held onto him tightly and laughed again, and knew it would be true.

_fin._


End file.
